"What in the 9 hells? Did Umberlee curse us with a hurricane? Wilson, I told you to keep an eye on the place. Why is the new member on the floor? And who is that? No! personal weapons! Past the lobby!"

Frowning slightly at the mention of Umberlee, Aubrey takes a moment to finish up with Clint before standing up, amused by Bojovnik's remark.

"Well, I can answer one of those questions, I'm Aubrey, Aubrey Ocaso. From the sounds of it, I imagine you would be Garmult, proprietor of this fine establishment? I was hoping to spend some time here to learn more about spellcasting in the midst of such a storm and from what I've heard my companion Clint mention, this is the best place to do so." Gesturing towards the Warhammer at her side, "Well, spells are often my first go-to, I find that it's always worth having a second option though I can't seem to quite master the art of casting while using this as well."

Garmult was silent at first trying to take everything in; he threw up his hands in a whatever gesture transitioning to one hand on his hip and the other cradling his forehead warding off a migraine.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Garmult relaxes his posture and asks, "How's your friend?"

Aubrey checks behind her, "He'll be alright this is not the worst thing he's been through."

"Maybe we should take him upstairs to somewhere more comfortable and away from this..." he sighs, "...mess. "Do you mind if we move him?"

"Not at all, go right ahead." Aubrey warmly smiles.

We can set him up on one of the club's couches and we can get you something to eat and drink for your troubles, it's getting late. Garmult offers.

"That would be lovely, thank you for your hospitality." Aubrey bows

"Hey, Wilson grab his legs, we'll bring him upstairs and deal with this disaster in the morning." Darbrand Garmult says, "On 3. 1, 2, 3. Hup-grr... and lifts Clint under the arms. What have you been feeding him? Rocks? This lump is heavier than lifting a gelatinous cube. Oh shit! Fucking shit!" Darbrand Garmult begins tripping up the stairs and knocks up against the wall.

"Alright, we'll set 'em over there" Garmult and Wilson flops Clint onto the couch attached to the tabled booth with chairs on the end. Clint doesn't awake the entire time.